L'Artiste Français
And then an Artist, gifted man was he.
04/30/03
He’d create works of lovely quality.
The things of beauty that he treasured well—
from cloud, to cats and doves, to mademoiselle—
were drawn with love and painted bright with care.
His chiseled face was framed with locks of hair,
unkempt and dark; his eyes were deep and green.
Relaxed he stood, not tall but rather lean,
and shadowed were his features by a slight
but somewhat rugged beard of four days’ height.
He oft invited folks to see his work:
Each canvas he presented with a smirk
of quiet humor. Then he’d watch and wait
to see reactions, ask them “Does it sate
your senses, sooth your soul?” and when they’d say
“Indeed,” “of course,” or “j’aime bien,” he’d sway
with pleasure, smile and laugh, blink twinkling eyes.
He was a charming host; he’d mesmerize
his evening guests with gentle, flowing talk.
There was a simple swagger to his walk.
But even so he seemed to yearn for more
like many artists he lay insecure
among the crowds of critics, hard to please.
But common fellows might fall to their knees
in awe of worlds that they may never reach:
a dream of blue, a village on the beach.
His spirit lingered calm among the shades
of crimson, chestnut, indigo and jade.
An inspiration to all from these parts,
this man was born to ethereally ease hearts.
I wrote this for an assignment in my high school senior English class. We were supposed to write about a person (real or imaginary) in the style of Chaucer(author of the Canterbury Tales). It was due after my trip to France, so of course I left it for the last minute... I ended up writing most of it on the plane trip home. The subject is based on a man I met in France, named Renato Manese. His artwork is just beautiful, and I wished I wasn't so shy (and English-speaking) so I could really tell him so!